January Misgivings


In honor of Donald Trump’s Inauguration Day, I find myself speechless, but I am resonating with:

Herman Melville’s Misgivings

When ocean-clouds over inland hills
Sweep storming in late autumn brown,
And horror the sodden valley fills,
And the spire falls crashing in the town,
I muse upon my country’s ills—
The tempest bursting from the waste of Time
On the world’s fairest hope linked with man’s foulest crime. Continue reading

A Sonnet: Let the Sun Set on Hatred

I wrote this pre-Trump, but I think it still covers a lot of the right ground. Let’s not attack each other. Let’s lay aside our differences and work toward a stable future. Let’s try to not dismantle the things that matter out of our fear.

Friendly Fairy Tales


We are all children together looking for answers,
Cheered by beauty, gymnasts, athletes or dancers.
We look for family, love or a release to our pain,
For food, comfort, or shelter from fear and distain.
We are all alike: blessed by every sunny day, 
Then cast down by ice storms and endless gray.

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The Wizard Sea


This gray day, I find myself at sea, as I read Herman Melville’s poetry. In his life, he suffered the fears and disappointments of writing for a living. The fickle nature of the sea symbolized his readers, who loved Moby Dick, but deserted him with their indifference to his later works, including stirring civil war poetry.

Here is an excerpt from his poem, The Haglets, that speaks to my fairy-tale-loving heart:

Imbedded deep with shells
And drifted treasure deep,
Forever he sinks deeper in
Unfathomable sleep —
His cannon round him thrown,
His sailors at his feet,
Where never haglets beat. Continue reading

gather here.

Here is fairy magic courtesy of Beth at ididnthavemyglasseson, home of irony, humor and appreciation of all things kid. Great fairy call by Emily Dickinson. Who can resist an indoor winter fairy village?

I didn't have my glasses on....


when grandie v and i

have finished building our indoor winter fairy village

 with jewels and feathers and sparkles, a flower vine swing, love tape, and puff ball beds

it is very important to write about it and invite them to move in tonight. 

“when I sound the fairy call, gather here in silent meeting,

chin to knee on the orchard wall, cooled with dew and cherries eating.

merry, merry, take a cherry, mine are sounder, mine are rounder,

mine are sweeter for the eater, when the dews fall, and you’ll be fairies all.”

 -emily dickinson

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Mary Oliver Reminds Me


Bound by the shared weight of winter,
the empty bird feeder and I
let down our neighbors, as our emptiness
lets in the cold, the sleet and the
wet indifference of early snowfall.
Where is our divinity, our seed,
our stored warmth and harvest? Continue reading

Only One Hat Fits, poem by Brenda Davis Harsham (ME, IN A HAT Poetry and Prose Series)

Thanks to Silver Birch Press for publishing my poem, Only One Hat Fits. Have a magical week this last week before the New Year!

Silver Birch Press

brendaOnly One Hat Fits
by Brenda Davis Harsham

I try on hats,
in stores by the dozen,
but only one fits
my too-big head.
I wear it hiking
by millponds, up hillsides,
along ridge trails
and into the cloud bank.
The tight weave
keeps my face
from burning red
and the brim hugs without
I walk cracked sidewalks
pushing a stroller
stocked with every wipe
and diaper cream.
My daughter’s curls bounce,
her feet kick and she sings
to herself. And me.
My hat brim gets dark,
then darker.
My daughter grows out
of her stroller,
and we sell it on craigslist.
I feel a pang for its loss.
I explore disc golfing
in a hat, slam into low
branches. Stuffs into
a backpack, so light.
My hat brim stains darken.
I try on hats again.
No other hat fits
my too-big head.
I can’t give up my

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